The Figure in the Mist
by OCsRuleMyLife
Summary: Part 1 of Things That Will Kill in the Night.  Spain brings Mexico on a 'treasure hunting' trip in the Mediterranean to try and build a bond.  But when he blacks out and falls off the boat, he awakens in a strange place, his boat smashed, and Mexico gone.
1. Introduction

Things That Will Kill in the Night; The Figure in the Mist; Chapter 1

The air around the motorboat was chill, calm, and reflected the afternoon's soft glow on the Mediterranean waves. Spain was leaned forward, collecting the discovered treasures and placing them in his bag. A soft but stern voice came from beside him. "Papa… would you hurry up? I don't like sitting out here where we're not supposed to be."

Spain looked up and smiled at his long-haired daughter, and hefted the bag. "What's wrong with being here, Isabel?"

Mexico frowned, brushing her bare knees slightly. "It IS illegal to get 'treasure' from the bottom of the sea."

Spain chuckled, "These figurines were worth it, si? We can fix your economy in no time."

Mexico frowned deeper, "I've said what I was going to say. Now let's get going."

Spain made a very slight face. "Come on, Isabel. We can have a little bonding time, si?"

She leaned back slightly, looking up at the cloudless sky. "I'm only here because you're mi padre… just start the boat again please. We can 'bond' on the way back to land."

Spain nodded with a sigh, and reached down, scooping up the funnel from the general clutter on the floor of the boat. He placed it in the hole of the red gas cap across the boat from him, and then reached down and scooted Mexico's bag away from her legs, pulling out the gas can itself. He then stood and crossed the boat, pouring the gas into its place, and then screwed the cap back on. He placed the can down again, and turned, walking towards the control board with the ignition key. He blinked, and stared at the spot he had left the key. "Isabel? Where's my ignition key?"

Mexico looked up from the book she was staring at more than reading. "It's in my bag. I didn't want anything to happen to it while you were under. Then I wouldn't be able to get back to land."

Spain was silently a little hurt, but didn't show it as he stepped over to her bag. He unzipped the top, and reached his hand in, groping around for the little metal object. He looked up at Mexico while he did so. "Speaking of when I was under, how long was I under for?"

"Oh, twenty, thirty minutes. Why?"

"Because I ran completely out of oxygen."

"Hm. I don't know what to tell you. I don't dive." She looked back down at her book as Spain finally located the rusty key, taking it back to the ignition panel. He slid it into its slot, and began to turn it. There was a jamming sound, which he frowned about, and twisted a little harder. The key snapped, the rust on the neck of it having finally taken full hold. Spain blinked at the broken object in his hand, and looked to make sure Mexico hadn't noticed, before turning around and stepping over to his bag, fiddling through it some, and extracting an ornamental knife he had discovered while diving. He brought it back to the panel, and began to tear at the key slot, quickly removing the sorry object. He placed the knife on the panel beside it, and peered into the exposed, and now torn, wires. He began to reconnect quickly and quietly, while occasionally making sure Isabel was still deep in her book. There was soon a revving sound, and the boat began to move. He smiled as he set the course towards the Spanish coast, wondering just what wonders he could have actually found. His daydreaming was cut short by Mexico's voice slowly marking its words, "Papa… may I see that statuette you found underwater…?"

Spain looked back at her, and saw her staring at his bag. "Si, sure. Por que?"

"I think it's valuable." She closed her book, and watched him silently. He stepped over to his bag and reached in, beginning to pull out the statue, when suddenly everything went black. He saw nothing, he heard nothing, he felt nothing until he awoke. What awoke him was a splash of water. He looked up, and his eyes burned as water streamed around them. He shut them and opened them again, looking up through the shimmering water at the side of the boat, watching as Isabel looked down at him with a shocked expression. He was well beneath the water's surface, and steadily sinking, and the water was getting increasingly difficult to see through. It became murkier, and a dark, brownish red as the substance spread around him. He felt a dull pain below his left shoulder, like a wound was opened and as being attacked by the salt of the water. He sank down, and down, and soon his consciousness crept away once more.

He awoke again on a short strip of sand, situated between a large fence and a set of rocks. More immediately, his motorboat lay in a dismal wreck beside him. He immediately shot up, looking around, eyes wide. He looked back at the motorboat in an attempt to disprove his previous fear, to no avail. His fear was confirmed. There was no sign of Isabel.

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><p>I decided that since it is October, I should begin to write a few horror fics. This is not a horrific chapter, since it's kind of the introduction. I doubt this will be very scary at all, but I'll rate it T just to be safe. Please review this dear story of mine, and have a fantastically frightful night.<p> 


	2. The Door

Theme song I wrote for this story (not my best work): Check my profile for Figure in the Mist Music

The Figure in the Mist: The Door

Spain looked around once more, and located a curious hole in the side of a cliff face, just a few feet above his reach. Maybe Mexico had found a way into that, he thought. He turned towards the boat, and wandered towards the wreckage, digging through the splinters of wood and debris, eventually finding the little space the foldable stepladder was placed. He hefted it up, and carried it heavily toward the hole. He placed it down, and stepped up it, looking around a bit. It went into the rock about three feet, and had a lightless, drain-like hole in the middle that went straight downward. A pair of ragged pants and a torn shirt lay beside the hole, like someone had cast them off before climbing in. He reached forward, leaning towards the hole, and took a hold of the edge of it. Before he could lean himself more forward, there was a small clatter against the stone beneath him. He looked down, and saw that the little snake figure he had been holding on the boat had been slipped into his pocket. He let go of the edge of the descending hole into darkness, and reached back down to grab it, placing it back in his pocket. Before he turned around to exit the small hole, he was distracted by a flash of reflection from the moon. He moved the corner of one of the pant legs and lifted up the reflective object. It was a little key, with a tag and number attached. He blinked at it, and slipped it into his pocket. "If I see them, I can return it. This way, nobody can steal it…" His thought was cut off by a small sound, like that of a dying breath in the next room, one that you can't quite hear but you know is there because of the feeling on the back of your neck it produces. He froze, and stared into the hole. A cold breeze slipped by him, and he tottered backwards, jumping off the stepladder. His breathing quickened. His eyes glazed. Little blurs seemed to dance at the corner of his vision. But as quickly as it had come, the phenomenon was over. He blinked once or twice, and turned back to the boat.

When he had walked back over to the boat, he grabbed his bag of things. He opened it, and sifted past his waterlogged laptop until he found the flashlight. He flipped the switch, and, miraculously, it worked. He looked up at the moonlight, and pressed his lips to one side, looking back down and flipping his laptop. He frowned at it. "Maybe I can find some dry parts here, and fix it." He shook his head, and stood up, rubbing his face. _No freaking out… I'm sure she's around here somewhere…_ He took his flashlight back over to the little hole, and crawled in, shining the flashlight down. It wasn't deep at all. He slid himself down into the small hole, which barely allowed for him to go through. When he came through it to the floor, he had to duck down, since his head stuck slightly out of the hole. He came to his knees and crawled forward for a while, until he came to a spot where he could stand on his feet. He shifted from foot to foot uneasily, sliding the beam of light around. Where it started was what appeared to be the bottom of a large door. There were slots all along the sides of this door shaped like little curvy snakes. He continued moving his flashlight up the doorway, until it came to a large snake-head with its jaws wide and ready to strike. Spain made an involuntary noise of fright and stumbled back in shock before simply shaking his head. "It's just a stone snake statue…" Just when he finished this thought, another thought went into his head. _Like the one in my pocket…_ He shoved his hand into his pocket, and pulled out the snake. He examined the curvature of its back. Three curves. It had six teeth on top, six on bottom. Its tongue slithered out like it had just discovered its prey, but was now ready to attack it with its twelve teeth. He looked back up at the snake on the door. He counted the curves on its back. One, two, three. He counted the teeth. One, two, three, four, five, six. He examined the tongue. It was in the same position. His eyes and flashlight then turned to the slots beside the door. He looked at his statuette, and then stepped forward, sliding it into the nearest slot. There was a grinding sound, like the sound of an executioner's axe being sharpened on its stone. A small flash of fire blasted through the large statue's eyes, and Spain darted backwards.

The room was dark again, save for his flashlight beam, but it provided him no comfort. He crawled quickly back through the tunnel, and shimmied up and out the hole in the side of the cliff, jumping clean past the stepladder. He turned on his heel, the glaze returning to his eyes. No amount of rubbing would rid it while it lasted, but again it suddenly disappeared. His breathing, though, remained quick and choppy. He looked over at the fence that was his other barrier from exiting the beach. He noticed a bend in it large enough for someone small to crawl through. He turned again to his bag, and protruded a pair of powerful pliers, then put the bag on his back, deciding that Mexico had probably went to find him, or shelter, or help. He nodded to himself, and took the pliers to the fence. In a few minutes, he had enough of a hole created that he could crawl through. He dropped his bag from his back into the sand, making a small thump, like a head from a guillotine. First his legs, then his body, and finally his head were brought through the sizeable hole. As the cut metal passed his neck, a long, thin cut was given to him. He made a small sound of disgruntlement, and when he had crossed through the gate, pulled the backpack with him, and then raised his hand to his neck. He pulled his hand down, examining the thin streaks of blood between his fingers. He shouldered his bag again, and then put his hand on the cut, trying to stop the bleeding of the insignificant wound. He looked around at his new situation. He could see almost nothing through the thick fog that surrounded, and he flipped on his flashlight again. The solitary bar of light revealed a few dead trees, the continuation of the coast, and two paths. One was dirt, and ran down between the dead trees. The second was cobblestone, and seemed to go to some sort of town, though he couldn't tell in the fog. He pointed the light around for a sign, and it glinted off of something on the ground. He moved the light back to the ground, and stepped towards the object. He knelt down and lifted a metal folder from the dirt. It was obviously dropped recently; no rust, and it hadn't been worn into the dirt. _In this fog, it wouldn't take more than a day to start looking a little dirty._ He opened it, and found a familiar picture inside. It was a picture that included himself, his arm around Romano, who looked away from the camera blushing, Mexico as a child, as well as her brothers and sisters from all over the Spanish Empire. He smiled, looking at a picture for a while. He then realized what it meant that this picture was here. "Isabel."

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><p>A little longer, a little more creepy. We like? I hope so. Because I've never written a horror fic before. I want to know if it's good, so please review! Spain looks a little like a sissy from that door scene, doesn't he? Well, you'd be just as scared as him. And probably freaking out. Kudos to Spain for not freaking out about Mexico disappearing. Anyway, please review, and tell your friends about it. And have a horrifically good day :J. Oh, I may upload again a little later tonight. Yeah.<p> 


	3. Stories in the Wreckage

The Figure in the Mist: Stories in the Wreckage

Spain slid the picture into his pocket, and turned the flashlight towards the two paths again. The path towards civilization had a much thicker amount of fog, and Spain frowned. He looked over at the other, wooded path, and decided that if he were wary of the thicker fog, Mexico would be even more so. He went down the pathway through the trees, watching his step avidly with the flashlight.

He found himself again at a section of shore, a long dead campfire before him. More disturbing still was the old ship that was leaning at an angle, towards Spain. There was a large hole, like someone or something had torn it open violently. He looked up and down the shore. Nothing else. He then turned his eyes to the hole again, and shined his light around through the much thinner fog. He discovered a grappling hook, like one used on the side of ships, and lifted it, weighing it in his hands. He looked up at the hole, then down at the hook, and mentally measured the length of the rope to the side of the large cruise ship. He threw it through the hole, and then tugged the rope, making sure it slid into a solid place. He pulled it one last time to assure himself of its safety, and began to pull himself up the rope. It creaked and swayed like a noose, but it held as he clambered on up. In through the hole he went, and found himself in an old, ransacked sleeping quarter. He looked at the bed momentarily, until movement to his right caught his eye. He swung the flashlight quickly to the fireplace, and thought he saw a shadow dart away quickly. He blinked to himself, and again his eyes glazed for a short time.

When the glaze had retracted, he blinked a few times and looked around the room again. He found a smashed old laptop, and stepped over to it. "It's useless to its owner now… maybe I can salvage some dry parts." He picked it up, and turned it over. The cover for its internal parts had been ripped off, and the interior mechanics were easily accessible. He took advantage of this, and slipped the pieces into the bag on his shoulder. He then shone the flashlight around the room again, and had to cover his eyes as the mirror reflected it to him. Beside the mirror was a painting that looked oddly familiar. He stepped up to it, and squinted, pointing the light at it. It was colored a strange set of colors, and shaped like a snake with its jaws agape. It was nothing particularly special, and he just rode it off as unoriginality. He examined where he had seen the shadow retreat from, and found nothing but a long extinguished fireplace, filled with old ashes. He turned to the door, which hung eerily ajar. He stepped through it, and into the main hallway of the cruise ship. There were wires dangling everywhere, and a noise like a dying bug was audible from any point in the hallway. He located one door with the number '24' hanging above it. He blinked at it once or twice, then reached into his pocket, extracting the key he had found in the little cavern. The tag attached read, '24', and showed a design like that on the sign above the door. He reached out to the doorknob, and twisted. Locked. He brought the key to the knob, and slid it in, twisting and unlocking the door, which slid open with a slow creak. He stepped in and shined his flashlight around. **Fwoosh!** The sound of a flapping cloak whipped, as a shadow darted away from the bed at the end of the room. Spain's eyes grew wide, and he blinked. Attempts at rational explanation whipped through his brain, and he tried to justify the incident. He shone his flashlight around the room. There was nothing that could have cast a humanoid shadow. He checked for alternate exits. None, except the door he was standing in. So how had the person before him slipped so instantly and easily by him? He breathed a little more heavily, and again that strange glaze swept over his eyes. He stood still, beginning to become accustomed to these random spasms of glaze, and waited for it to pass. When it did, he looked around the room. He pulled on the drawer beside the bed, to find it also locked. He looked around for a method to open it, and discovered a discarded chisel, which he jammed against the lock, breaking it off, and letting the drawer slide open. He found nothing but a dead cell phone, an newspaper from 2009, and a phone charger. He picked up the newspaper.

"_September 14, 2009_

"_ISLAND MYSTERY ANNIVERSARY_

"_Ten years ago, to this day, a group of fishermen on a deserted island off the coast of Spain sent a distress call. By the time rescuers could arrive, the fishermen were nowhere to be found. Still to this day, this causes the question of 'is our country's…"_

He stopped reading, finding the story neither very interesting nor comforting. He picked up the dead cell phone. "Maybe it will have some information on what happened to these people on this ship…" He grabbed the charger, plugged it in, and plugged the other end into the phone. He held the power button until the small device powered on, but it needed no more coaxing. It was already open to text messages. Spain smiled slightly. "It's nice to know that the power in this old thing still works."

"_I'll be home soon, darling! I have a present for you."_

"_We landed on an island… it's covered in fog."_

The next message was a picture of a mountain on an island. Spain stared at it for a while. "Funny… this picture looks like the mountain in this picture." He held the newspaper and the text message up beside each other. "Interesting. I wonder if this is that island."

"_Something tore up one of the sailors. I tended to his wounds, but he looks pretty badly hurt. Some of these animals around here are dangerous, it seems!"_

"_I have to run. Otherwise I'll never get out of here. Thinking of you makes me feel stronger."_

The next was a picture of a pass code for a suitcase, "9.9.1." Spain shrugged, then flipped to the next message.

"_ERROR. MESSAGE FAILED."_

"_They're taking over the ship!"_

Spain blinked, and backed up from the phone, letting it drop with a clatter to the desk. He held the chisel tightly in his off-hand, and turned to the door. Before he could exit, there was a sudden slamming of feet against wood behind him. He spun, and looked out the window, as a shadow darted away like a deadly ghost, off into the night. He shook his head, trying to deny his eyes, and turned back to the door, taking somewhat shaky steps. He stepped back into the hallway, and placed the chisel in his pocket, using the flashlight once more. The wires that hung down blocked him from moving farther into the ship, so he looked around for somewhere to kill the power to this area. He found a panel, and pulled a switch that said, "Hallway". The wires died, and there was a creak as the boat settled slightly. Every step Spain took around the ship was like an echo of the step before, nothing but a hollow and faint idea. He found another newspaper discarded a little ways down the hallway, and looked at it as well.

"_October 12, 2009._

"_MORE FISHERMEN MISSING._

"_Over the last hundred years, the superstitiously 'deadly waters' around an old nameless Spanish island, nicknamed Isla de la Muer, or Island of the Dead, have claimed over sixty ships-worth of victims. Twenty of these have been in the last four years, and…"_

Spain's eyes drifted from the disturbing article to the more disturbing still picture. Again, a picture of the same island mountain. Spain tossed the newspaper, and hoped beyond hope that the people on this ship were simply fascinated with some island hundreds of miles away. He continued down the hallway, until he came to a classy-looking dining area. There was a curtain across most of it, and he reached to the little control panel to his immediate left. Nothing was labeled, and he went through a disco ball, stage light, and an automatic water tap before sending the curtain turning away. When it was reeled from the room, he stepped forward, looking around, and placed his hand on a little jukebox leaning against the wall. It fell through the floor with a large **CRACK** and Spain jumped backwards. He sighed, and stepped back towards the door. "It's not safe in here… I had better go look for Isabel. She's got to be on the island somewhere."

He began moving slowly and cautiously through the ship, flashlight often held like a deadly weapon. When he neared his exit through the hole, something caught his ever-observant eye in the ashes of the fireplace. He dug through the ashes, and finally came across a USB mass storage device. He opened his bag, and placed his computer out on the mostly smashed bed beside him. He replaced his soaked microchip with the new dry one, and powered on his computer, plugging in the USB, and opening the file labeled, "Diary".

"_We're out to sea! The Mediterranean is so beautiful!_

He clicked on to the next entry.

"_The fog is much too thick to navigate in, so the captain stopped at an uncharted island. It looks a little like the island in the articles Dr. Harris was reading, which freaks me out a little bit. Oh, and I found a safe behind my painting! I'm going to try and get it open tonight._

"_Dr. Harris says the captain's not telling us something. The equipment is going haywire, and all calls for help are being ignored or missed. I don't know what to think!_

"_We wandered around a little town this evening. It was very pretty. But no one could find the man who was in cabin 6. I'm a little concerned for him._

"_Still no sign of the man from cabin 6, but Dr. Harris mended up a sailor today who went out of the ship against the captain's orders. It's like being on house arrest! I'm a little frightened, to be honest._

"_I dreamed about snakes and statues today… it was very strange. I think I will paint what I dreamt. It's like I'm going crazy! Just yesterday I thought someone was outside my window, speaking in a different language!_

"_One of the sailors tried to hang himself. The crew and passengers are so on edge…_

"_They're calling me to town, but the idiots on this ship locked me up! I WILL get out, though."_

Spain, upon reading the final entry, slowly shut his computer, looking around the wrecked room. He was about to leave out the hole, when he realized a sticky note had attached itself to his foot. He pulled it off, and read the words in fine-written pen. "Rebecca under house arrest. Tranqs no good. Lock doors, turn off lights, keep crew and passengers inside at all times. People disappearing; taking every precaution. –Dr. Harris"

Before he could fully register the chilling words, there was a blood-curdling scream from outside. He leapt out the window, and his feet squished in the sand. A black figure was dragging a silhouette of a woman, a woman of very much Isabel's frame and build, down the path. He chased after the figure, but it managed to keep ahead of him consistently. It finally disappeared as they rounded the bend to the cobblestone path, presumably to the town that had appeared on the USB. Spain gripped his flashlight tightly. Finding Isabel had just become one of many, many problems.

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><p>Heh...heh...heh...heh... I hope you liked that chapter. Sorry if that was too much dialogue for you. But we can't learn anything without lots of explanation, si? Anyway, please have a terrifyingly good rest of the night, and most of tomorrow. I will try to update again! I will try my hardest! Please review~.<p> 


	4. Of Days Long Past

The Figure in the Mist: Of Days Long Past

Spain stepped forward into the mist, holding the flashlight before him warily. Whether or not the mist was too thick, he would have to brave it now. He began to walk forward, stepping slowly and steadily through the tangible fog. After a bit of stomping down the cobblestone, he came to a place where the mist began to clear. It was a little section of path, presumably leading up to the town, with two benches, and a few broken street lamps. Spain leaned against one of the lamps, chewing his bottom lip, and trying to decide his next course of action. Before he could fully decide, there was a click beside his left ear. He turned his head, wide-eyed, to the source of the noise. This source turned out to be a pistol in a large, firm hand. The arm attached to the hand was large, thick, and covered in an old, coat sleeve. The arm was attached to a thick shoulder, which in turn attached to the torso. On the back of the torso was a longer gun with a row of darts beside it. The large grey coat hid the rest of the body downward until halfway down the calves, which showed black pants that subsided to large black boots at the feet. Above the torso was a head, hair scraggly, brown and long, chin broad but not square, with a small beard beginning to accumulate. The pure blue eyes darted around Spain's face, and were enclosed by round, silver glasses.

"Who are you?" The obviously British man holding the gun stared intently.

"A man lost and searching for his daughter."

The gun was held a little more loosely. "So you're not an islander?"

"No. I just landed here tonight. Who are you?"

The man eyed him closely, and then lowered the gun reluctantly. "Dr. Geoffrey Harris. I'm sorry about the scare. Here, sit down." He motioned to a bench.

Spain obliged the seat, and the doctor sat beside him, turning towards him. Spain spoke first, "So are you the Dr. Harris mentioned in some of the things I found on the ship?"

"Yes… sadly, I am that Dr. Harris, though I wish I weren't."

"What happened?"

"If you went through any of the ship's things, you probably know that I landed on this island with a group of people on that cruise ship because of electrical problems. I knew right from the start that something was wrong, since every call to the mainland was not received. It was a feeling of being utterly alone. The captain and I tried to keep everyone from knowing, but eventually the touring artist, Rebecca, found out. I did my own personal research on the uncharted Spanish islands of the Mediterranean, and found a lot about an ominous Isla de la Muer. Every ship that came within a few miles reportedly had electrical problems, then was never seen again. The very few survivors ever found from such incidents reported accounts of terrifying men with fang-like teeth who stalked in the night, muttered in an unknown language, and abducted the sailors' crewmates. One of these sailors even reported escaping a chamber where the fanged men sacrificed their victims to a heathen snake god. I shared some of my information with Rebecca, whom I had begun to trust well. I also began to confide in her my distrust for the captain. I knew he knew something we didn't. A day later, we had come out into town to walk around and try to get some help. Hubert Melfry left town a little early to head back to the ship and get some sleep. I haven't seen him since."

"The man from cabin 6?"

"Yes. Then, the next morning, one of the sailors came limping back to the ship, crying something about a monster attacking him. Naturally, I discarded the information as fatigue and dehydration, and probably no shortage of alcohol, from being out all night against the captain's orders. I did a test, and his blood-alcohol level was clean; he hadn't been drinking for a while now. He was well hydrated, and the only explanation was fatigue. So I put some stitches on his leg where the large cut was, like a claw had slashed him, and told him to get plenty of rest. When I awoke the next morning, I went to check on him. Aside from being in bandages all over from the previous event, he looked fine. Rebecca then came to me, having had some disturbing dreams, and babbling about snakes. She was incredibly stressed, so I gave her a couple pills to calm her down. That night, I woke up to a crash in the kitchen, and went in to find that the cook had hanged himself, a note clenched tightly in his hand. It read, 'They're coming,' and had a scribble of a three-ridged snake with twelve fangs in all, its tongue hanging out. I wasn't sure what to think at the time, but I know now why he did it. I was a little concerned, and told Rebecca he had only attempted, and she quickly spread that around. I was glad; I didn't want too much fear adding to the tension that was thickening. Everyone knew something was off. Nobody knew what, though. Steadily, people started disappearing. I began to carry my scalpel with me everywhere, and left my tranquilizer by my bed at night. A few of the sailors went stark mad, especially after all the tourists but Rebecca disappeared. Then the last deck hand went missing, and Rebecca suddenly became angry, and shouting about 'they' who were calling her to the island. She attacked me, and I tried to tranquilize her. It didn't help, but together with the captain I was able to overpower her back to her room. We locked the door, and soon everyone was staying to their cabins at night with barred, locked, and barricaded doors. Sometimes in the night I'd hear a scream, and find that in the morning one of the sailors had disappeared. Occasionally I'd even hear Rebecca shouting about killing someone. Pretty soon, she disappeared too, with a hole in the side of the ship as her last, inhumanly strong, act. After that, day was no longer safe either. The islanders, who turned out to be just as horrific as the survivors had described, began to assault the ship. I managed to make a narrow escape, and have been wandering the island ever since."

He fell silent, his free hand playing with something in his pocket. Spain watched, but before he could inquire, Harris answered. "It's an engagement ring. I never got to give it. I was going to ask her to marry me… she probably thinks I'm dead now."

"Who?"

"Veronica. I left her in Bristol to take a job as the cruise ship's medical examiner… I should never have taken that job. I'll probably never see her again."

Spain looked at him pityingly. "We'll find a way out."

"Maybe. But even if we do, how will I find my way back to England?"

"One step at a time." Spain looked down at the path again, and sighed. "You'll find England, and I'll find Isabel."

Harris looked over at him. "Your daughter?"

"Si."

"Then let's work together."

Spain turned to him, and watched the doctor for a while. "Si."

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><p>Alrighty, you have now met the human OC Dr. Harris. I hope you like him, because he's sticking around. Unless I decide to kill him off. In which case, he's not sticking anything, except maybe a knife in his chest. Anyway, please review! And have a nice, nice day...<p> 


	5. A Town of Secrets

*This chapter is EXPONENTIALLY longer than the others!*

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><p><span>The Figure in the Mist: A Town of Secrets<span>

The two began to walk towards the town, in the search for Isabel. It was a small town, and they had reached the town center within a few minutes of walking. Shortly before they got there, Dr. Harris turned his head to Spain, still walking. "I have a question for you."

"Si?"

"Do you know anything about these? I know it's unlikely, but I've found a couple." He pulled out a statuette identical to the snake one Spain had found at the bottom of the ocean. Spain stared for a moment, then stopped walking.

"Si, I know exactly what those are."

"Oh?"

Spain explained the situation about the door, and the British man scratched his neck. "Hmmm… it probably is where their sacrifice chamber is."

"Then why did they take Isabel this way and not to the door?"

"An excellent question indeed… for now, let's just focus on finding her."

Spain nodded, and they went in to the town center. Harris looked around, saw an old rusty tractor that had ran into a ditch, and walked over to it, reaching under and taking the wheel belt. Spain blinked at him. "How did that get there? And why are you taking the belt?"

"You never know when something might come in handy."

"Where is everyone?"

"Probably either dead or fanged.

Spain looked around, and saw a newspaper stand, covered with a thick glass pane. "Maybe that can tell us about how long ago the town shut down." He walked up to it, and reached behind him, extracting his large war axe. Dr. Harris didn't seem to notice, instead examining an old power transformer. Spain swung the axe at the glass, but it merely made a small crack, instead sending a sting up his arm, like when one hits a baseball on the wrong part of the bat. Without looking over at him, Harris spoke.

"Don't even try. You could shoot that thing and it wouldn't break. If there's anything I've learned from scavenging this town, it's that they were stingy."

"You've scavenged it?" Spain turned, the axe suddenly back in that little compartment he seemed to have.

"Well, the outside of it. I've never come this deep before." The doctor admitted with a shrug. He turned back to the transformer. "It still works. There's power here somewhere."

"Where?"

"It doesn't matter. Let's get looking."

They took another look around, and Spain took a look down one street that had a wire fence across it. There were signs like someone had thrown another person over it, and dragged them down the street, just recently. They couldn't get through—the wire was thick and barbed. Spain pointed to the street. "Over here. I think they took her this way. Do you have a way to get through?"

Harris nodded, and walked over. "Go look around town, try and see what happened and if there's a way to beat them, or find Isabel faster. I'll work on this wire." The doctor extracted a scalpel, and began tenuously cutting on the sharp wire. Spain nodded and turned to go down a different street, near the transformer.

He came to another square, where he picked up a discarded newspaper.

"_MAYOR'S WIFE MISSING_

"_Another disturbing disappearance has occurred, bringing the total this month up to fourteen. The victims being well-liked and well-known, authorities have no suspects, and are being open-minded about the cases."_

Spain frowned, and dropped the newspaper again, looking around. He walked up to the nearest building, and knocked on the door. No response. He knocked harder. Again, no response. He looked at it again; it wasn't a house. He looked around the back, and found that the wall had been smashed in when a truck had collided into the bricks. Spain's eyes widened a little bit. He went back to the door, and brought out his axe again. He raised it, and brought it smashing down on the wood, splintering the weak door. He stepped in, and found that he was in an old abandoned police headquarters. The first thing that caught his eye was a little golden tile, with a strange symbol on it. He reached down and picked it up, examining it for a while, and then placed it in his bag. Whatever it was, it was out of the ordinary. He walked over past the front of the small truck that had careened into the wall, and opened the file cabinet, examining the files. Every case after the year 1999 involved someone vanishing, without any leads or traces. He placed the cases back down, and turned around, going to examine the front of the truck. He opened the door, and looked through. He found nothing of interest at first glance, except an oddly placed pair of hedge clippers, stabbed into the chair where one's head normally rests. He pulled them out, remembering what Dr. Harris had said about never knowing what's useful, and placed them in his bag. He went a little farther into the station, and found a single cell. He turned to examine it, and one feature immediately caught his attention. There was a body of a man lying lifelessly on the bed, thin and food-depraved. Its mouth was open very slightly, the jaw moved slightly to one side like the person had no strength left to keep it straight. One hand was laid ceremonially on its stomach, the fingers curled like small, bony hooks. The other hand was extended sideways, palm up, skin fitted tightly around the bones, the curvature of the very nicks in the bones was evident in the way the skin folded. The body's eyes were dull and dark, projected upward, and completely dry. They were fully dilated, and were about half-closed. They looked like two grey and black balls of clay inside the face, and were sunken in an unnatural amount. Spain turned away, and walked back towards the door. "That poor man… he must have starved if and when the police chief disappeared." On his way out, he looked at the floor beside the doorway. Under a piece of the wood was another of the snake statuettes. He grabbed it, and put it in his pack. "If Dr. Harris has a couple, that gives us three… maybe we'll be able to open that door soon."

Upon exiting the station, he evaluated his situation once more. He was waist-deep in mystery, a living nightmare, and a shrouded British man who'd been surviving, in fact, strangely enough, thriving, on an island reportedly inhabited by monstrous men. Regardless of the shadiness, he was the only man Spain could even think of trusting at the moment. He turned his attention to following down the street a little further, until he reached the gate to a wealthy-looking estate. He pushed on it slightly, and it swung open with only the protest of rust. He stepped in cautiously, and looked around. A small glint in a thick thorn bush caught his attention. There, under the thorns, was an oddly shaped key. He almost reached for it, and then remembered the hedge-clippers he had picked up in the station. He smiled at his own ingenuity, and took the clippers out, quickly cutting away the thorns and taking the key, slipping it into his bag. He then went up to the door of the house, examining its strength. It appeared thick and strong, and probably not weak enough for him to just second-handedly smash with his axe. He frowned, and looked around for an alternate entrance. He found a glassless window, but was hindered by the iron grill between him and the interior of the house, where the glass should have been.

He continued journeying around the house, and discovered a basement door with a fallen tree in front of it. He smiled, knowing his axe would be of use here. In about five swings, the tree was well out of the way for him to go to the door. It was also iron, and had a strange four-pronged keyhole in its center. Spain silently made a connection, and took out the key he found in the bush, and jammed it into the slot, and the door squeaked open reluctantly. The basement was almost completely empty, but he did find a hacksaw with a little cover that he decided to keep and put in his bag, just in case.

When he turned around to leave, a flash of color in the hole of a tree caught his eye. He walked over to it, and reached in, immediately hoping it wasn't an animal. Able only to find an anonymous solid object, he pulled out his flashlight and flipped it on, pointing it in the tree. There was a box, like a child might use to hide a treasure in, with a faded painting of the sun and people dancing under it. The eeriest part of the painting was that every person's face had been chipped off with a sharp object, like a knife. Spain shook his head in bewilderment, and turned around, deciding to try his luck with the iron grill over the window, extracting the hacksaw. He went up to the weakening iron, and began to bring the saw back and forth across its grates, until a slit had been created on the top. He then tried this again with the bottom part of the grill, and soon it was off, lying on the ground. He discarded the ruined hacksaw, and climbed through the window. When he did, he cast his eyes around the large central room. They came to a staircase. Suddenly, a black figure shot up the stairs, and Spain's eyes immediately glazed over with that strange effect. This time, though, it didn't immediately subside. It remained for thirty, even forty five seconds. He tried with all his might to shake his head, rub his eyes, or blink to rid himself of it. It would not go away. Finally, after a minute and a half, the glaze slowly dissipated.

He then waded forward, and shivered. It was freezing. He went over to the fireplace out of instinct, filling it up with some more wood and pulling out a lighter from his pack. Soon, the fire was burning hot. He smiled to himself, but then watched in confusion as the smoke, instead of going up the chimney, floated over to the wall, and seemed to seep right through it. He tilted his head, and walked over to the wall. He watched as the smoke sank into the wall, and then, in a guess, scratched the wall with one fingernail. The paper came right off. He took out the chisel he had taken, and began scraping the wall, slowly uncovering something piece by piece. He was soon presented with a large door with five slots beside it. One slot was filled with a little golden tile, marked with an odd symbol. Spain furrowed his brows, and reached into his bag, pulling out his own golden tile, and fit it in beside the first. There was a small click. "I wonder what's behind here… it may help in figuring out what the hell's going on." Spain turned, and stepped forward, accidentally kicking something. He looked down to find that there was an old revolver on the floor in front of him. He bent down, and picked it up, beginning to cautiously go up the stairs. He checked the bullets, and found all intact and loaded properly, so he took the final steps. As he went up the last step, he put his hand on one of the wooden orbs on top of the railing, but it turned in his hand, revealing a Chinese character, accompanied with a click like someone opening a lock. He looked down the rail, and saw two more such orbs, but their swivels were rusty and motionless at the moment. He walked across the thin pathway on the second floor, and came to a door. He opened it, but jumped back as a snake suddenly jumped forth from the room and hissed at him. He fired five shots from the pistol madly, missing every shot. The snake stood in the doorway like a sentinel as Spain stood back, attempting to avoid conflict. He frowned, and placed the gun in his pocket for safekeeping. He turned slightly to see if the snake would react. It simply sat in the door, staring at him. He turned more, with the same result. He then noticed a loose brick in the wall, and walked over to it. He pulled it out, keeping an eye on the snake the whole time, and found another golden tile. He dropped the brick, and grabbed the tile, slowly moving away from the snake and down the stairs, and placing the tile beside the other two. It clicked as well, but something also clicked in his head. He ran back to the window, hopped out, and ran back to the basement, looking around. _There's got to be a net or something in here somewhere…_ He located and grabbed a net that was leaning against the wall. "I'll need something larger… hmmm… there was that old delivery truck that smashed into the police station. It probably has a bag in it somewhere."

He took off for the truck, net in tow, and tried to open the side door to the box on the back of the car. It was padlocked, and tight. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the revolver, and pointed it at the rusty object, blasting it into pieces with his last shot. He opened the truck to find that there was indeed a sack—full of grain and torn. He made a face. "I need some way to patch it up. That snake's not going anywhere unless I make it, and this seems like the safest way." He thought for a moment. _A delivery truck full of burlap sacks… it wouldn't be unheard of for the driver to have a needle and thread in his glovebox to repair them. I'll go check._ He ran back to the smashed door of the station, and went in, going over to the front end of the truck. He opened the glove compartment, and sure enough, there sat a needle and thread. He grabbed them, and ran to the truck's delivery box again. He took out the sack and dumped the grain, and sewed up the hole, all the while looking around to make sure no islander snuck up on him. He then ran back to the estate, crawling through the window and going up the stairs. He first threw the net, which caught the snake off guard, and then caught it up in the sack. The snake hissed madly, but Spain tied off the sack, and tossed the snake aside. He sighed. "Now that that's through with…" He stepped into the room, and looked around. There was an old suit of armor against the wall, a cabinet filled with books, a door to a balcony that was missing its doorknob, and a globe with an empty spot that resembled the sun. He walked over to the cabinet, opened it, and examined the books. Most of them were old stories, but one row in particular caught his attention. All were red books, and the collection was missing two chronologically. He raised an eyebrow. He tried to pick up a book, but it would only slide across the cabinet, like it was fastened to the back and bottom of the shelf. _Another puzzle… I'll see if I can solve it later. Have to find those missing books first._ He looked up and down the shelves, digging through the books, but only found a little compartment. It refused to open, so he jammed his chisel into the wood. He tore at it until it began to create a small hole, and then broke it open the rest of the way. The other two golden tiles sat neatly in the compartment. He took them both, and looked around the room. _Nothing more of real interest here… I'll come back when I find the books._ He went back down to the secret door in the wall, and placed the last two tiles in. The door slid sideways, out of sight, and revealed a small closet of sorts. Nothing of much significance. He only found a monkey wrench, some old photos, and a rusty gun. The gun was too old to use, and the photos depicted a woman and a man. _They must have been the owners of the house._ He picked up the monkey wrench. _Maybe this will turn the orbs on the rail upstairs._ But before he was able to do anything about the orbs upstairs, there was a series of six loud gunshots from deeper in town, that pierced the silent night. He spun, and jumped out the window, running towards where he had last left Dr. Harris.

When he returned, he found the good doctor standing over a large, cloaked man who was holding a dagger, four gunshots to his chest, one to his shoulder, and one final one to his head. The doctor looked at him, gun still in hand. "I got the fence down, but as soon as I did, this man darted at me. They take too long to bring down." Spain blinked at him.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine."

"So… what now?"

"Well, if we think your daughter is back there, let's get moving."

Dr. Harris and Spain walked into the mist of the next part of town. It was a large square with a church at one end, but there was also a strangely placed teddy bear leaning against the wall. Spain looked at Dr. Harris. "Did you ever hide your things inside stuffed animals when you were a child?"

"When I was a child, I didn't have stuffed animals."

Spain frowned, but walked over to the teddy bear. "Can you cut this open?"

"I suppose… why?"

"I found a box in a tree, like where a child would hide it. Maybe the key is in this teddy bear."

"That's absurd."

"If I'm wrong, we lose nothing."

"Fine…" Dr. Harris walked over and lifted the bear, making a precise incision down its stomach. He opened the bear, and dug through the fluff. He made a face, then tugged on something. Out came a little golden key. Spain grinned. Dr. Harris silently rolled his eyes and handed it to him, and Spain placed it in his bag.

They looked around a little bit more, and found an old, burned house. Spain blinked at one thing, not burned at all, that caught his eye. It was the image of a sun. _Like the slot on the globe in the upstairs room of the estate…_ He walked over to it, and as he turned around to tell Dr. Harris was he had found, he saw that Dr. Harris had his pistol extended towards him again. "Don't move."

Spain froze, watching the man. He watched as the finger on the trigger pulled, and jammed his eyes shut, waiting for impact. The sound of the explosion came, but no impact ever did. "What did you close your eyes for?" Spain opened his eyes, and looked down at a large snake beside him with a bullet hole in its head. Spain sighed, and looked back up at Harris, then, forgetting he was going to explain his discovery to Harris, and picked up the little golden sun. He placed it in his bag, somewhat eager to go back to the house that was beginning to fascinate him. But Dr. Harris would not let them. He pointed to a foggy, dark trail through the woods. "Let's check down this way. This is where Hubert went before he disappeared."

Spain was naturally a little reluctant to follow down the trail, but brought out his flashlight all the same. The two of them trudged through the muddy path, until they came to a little fishing dock. There was a small trail of blood off of the wood, and a few fresh footprints in the mud. The doctor stepped forward, and looked around. "Do you suppose we could find a way into that church?"

Spain tilted his head. "Why?"

"The door was locked. I tried it when you were digging through the burned down house. Look around. If this is where people get dragged, maybe we could find the minister's key or something of the sort."

The two of them dug around the mud, looking for 'something of the sort', but the search was halted when Harris shouted, "Wait! I found it!" Spain turned, and Harris held up a rusty key with a little chain on the end, a cross hanging off of that. "Let's go open that church. Maybe something in there will help. There are no more trails here. Whoever took your daughter took her somewhere else."

They trekked back to the church, and Harris unlocked the door. They hauled the large door open, and Spain stepped in first. A black shadow darted through the room, but was stopped in its tracks by a bullet from Dr. Harris' gun. They approached the shadow, and found it to be another of the cloaked men. Spain scratched his head. "I don't get it."

"What?"

"How do they dart around so quick?"

"If I knew, I'd be darting around too."

Spain fell silent, while Dr. Harris pulled out a handkerchief, and placed it in the holy water basin. He took the handkerchief, and began to clean a stained glass window. "I hate seeing stained glass dirty. It's so beautiful." Spain nodded and watched, and then looked down at one of the pews. There was a red book with a number on it. _Wait… that's the same kind of book on the shelf in the house… that makes two things to go back there for!_ He picked up the book, and placed it in his bag.

He looked up at Dr. Harris. "Dr. Harris—"

"Please, call me Geoffrey."

"Geoffrey, I'm going to go back to the estate that I was checking out earlier. I think it will help unlock some of this mystery."

"Estate?"

Spain explained the happenings at the estate, and Dr. Harris nodded. "I will stay here. If something goes wrong, come back."

"Of course."

When Spain returned to the estate, the large, bright fire had suddenly dwindled into ashes, like someone had doused it heavily. He frowned at this slightly, but ascended the stairs, and extracted the monkey wrench for the orbs. To his chagrin, the monkey wrench refused to fit around the turntable bases of the orbs. He dropped the wrench with a frown, and continued on to the room where the snake had been. He slid the sun piece into the slot on the globe, and it opened, revealing another figure of a snake, and the final book. He placed the snake figure in his bag, and took the book with the first he had found, approaching the cabinet. He slid the books around until the two gaps were where the two books he held went, and he placed the books in line. There was a loud, piercing sound of grating stone on stone, and the wall where the suit of armor had stood seemed to step out of the way for him. He stepped into the room, and immediately froze in place. Before him, leaning backwards limply in a chair, was an old corpse, probably about as old as the prisoner in the station. The room had a crib in it, as well a bed, and a shattered mirror. There was writing all over the walls, and most of it was so badly written that Spain couldn't even make it out. But some of the words he could read.

"_Why so cruel to me"_

"_Water"_

"_My baby"_

"_Quiet"_

"_Died"_

He frowned, and tried to avoid the woman's body, which seemed to hold a hand out to welcome him with her. He looked at her other hand, and it held a note and a stencil. The note read only 'St. Mary', and the stencil was only four blocks, like two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. He slipped it into his bag, and walked over to the bed in the room. He moved the curtain out of the way, and found a little box. He opened the box, and found a locked diary and a blank piece of parchment paper. He placed the paper in his bag as well, thinking it may become useful. He looked over at the windowsill, and saw one half of a broken heart pendant. He took it, and looked back at the diary. The lock to it was a heart shape. He fitted the heart half into the lock, and it was snug. He nodded, and looked around the room again. There was nothing more he could do here, so he left it somewhat hurriedly, glancing back at the dead woman on the chair. He did a double-take then, turning to confirm what he thought. With the crib, the way she sat, and the bulge on her belly… she was pregnant when she died.

Spain was frozen for a little while, and breathed heavily. He stepped back into the room, and went over to the diary. He checked all around the bed, looking for the other half of the heart. Eventually, under the pillow, he found it. He took the half-heart, and fitted it with its counterpart. He skimmed through the diary. It talked a lot about her pregnancy, but then it came to a section where her maid disappeared. And then her husband. Then, according to the diary, when she woke up in the morning, someone had built a brick wall in front of her door and in front of her window. Spain looked around, and saw the bricks in the doorway, as well a few bricks on the windowsill, though most seemed to have fallen out. He continued reading the diary. It went on to detail her imprisonment; she had hallucinations from lack of sleep and water, and after a few days the baby in her belly stopped moving. When Spain got to the last section of the book, which read, 'I feel empty… I need water… water…', he dropped the diary, and shut his eyes. He eventually brought the courage to open them again, and found that a picture had slipped out of the diary. It was a picture of the stained glass window that Dr. Harris had cleaned, and Spain picked it up. It showed where the stencil Spain had found in the woman's hand was to be placed on the window. He slipped that picture into his bag as well, and then turned to leave. He couldn't stay in that place any longer.

He made his way down to the basement to find a hammer, set in his mind to liberate the woman, however post-mortem. On his way there, he stopped by the tree with the hole, and unlocked the child's box. There were various assortments of toys, and, strangely, it appeared that the child had found a figurine of the snake. He took the figurine, and also collected a few of the darts, thinking that perhaps Harris could convert them to tranquilizers. He then went into the basement, looked around, and located a sledgehammer. He grabbed it, and stalked, somewhat angrily, back up the stairs. He went through the window, through the house, up the stairs, into the room, and lifted the sledgehammer. He brought it smashing down on the bricks in the doorway. He did this again, and again, and again, until both the wall and the sledgehammer were in pieces. He breathed heavily, standing over the wall, the broken shard of a sledgehammer in his hand. He then tilted his head, and knelt down to the bricks. There was a strange-looking object, circular in shape, and having a notch in one side. He lifted it, and placed it in his bag. He stood, and decided never to come back to the estate, for the orbs or anything else. He shook his head. _What came over me? I don't do that… I need to get out of this place._ He moved onwards, exiting the house, and returning to the church.

After telling Dr. Harris about his experience, the doctor nodded. "Yes, I understand… it was probably your brain trying to cope with all the bad information this island has been feeding it. It shouldn't happen again, I think. Oh, and, would you happen to have a piece of paper?"

Spain tilted his head, "Why?"

The doctor pointed to a section on the wall. "There's an engraving here that I can't make out. I have some charcoal here that I can rub on a paper and make the image, though." He pointed to a little stack beside a fire he'd made by the window. Spain nodded, and pulled out the parchment paper.

"Here, will this work?"

"Yes, that will do nicely." He took the paper, and placed it over the engraving, rubbing the charcoal on it until you could see the outlines of the characters. They were meaningless squiggles, but the doctor was fascinated. "I wonder what they're for…"

Spain shrugged, and looked around the room, locating the stained glass window that Harris had cleaned. He pointed to it. "Geoffrey?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have a ladder or something?"

"Why?"

"I need to get up to that window."

"Use the bench I used; I left it there."

Spain walked over to it, and Dr. Harris went back to examining the characters by the firelight. Spain, standing on the bench, took out the picture, and, using it as a reference, put the stencil where it should have gone. Dr. Harris looked up at him. "What is that?"

"I'm not sure. I think it has something to do with light. I found it in the estate."

"I see… do you have anything to cut the glass with? I think I know what it might be for."

"No… I don't."

Dr. Harris sat for a while, then pulled out his box with the engagement ring. He tossed the box to Spain, who had to reach out to catch it. Harris looked at the window and spoke softly. "Take the ring. Use the corner of one of the diamonds. It should cut right through the glass."

Spain contemplated him. "Are you sure? That you want me to do this?"

"Yes. Just do it."

Spain nodded, and took the ring, cutting the squares out of the window, and letting the glass drop to the ground. He looked out the squares. The moon was just behind them. He got out of the way, and the light shined in, landing on four tiles on the floor. Dr. Harris went over to the tiles, and stepped on each one. After they had been stepped on in quick succession, there was a small whirring sound, like a gear getting ready to shift, and then a dragging sound, as the altar at the front of the church moved backward of its own accord. Spain looked over, and saw that it was a hatch. "Isabel MUST be down there!"

"I hope so…" Harris muttered, walking up to the hatch. "It needs some kind of disk." He looked over at Spain. "Any ideas?"

Spain thought for a moment, then reached into his bag, taking out the odd disk. "Try this. I found it on the estate too." He tossed it to Harris, who caught it carefully, and jammed it into place on the hatch. There were four little blocks, each with a symbol that was on the sheet of paper, only at a turned sideways and out of order. Dr. Harris sighed. "This shouldn't take long… I just have to get them in order." The hatch was square, with the disk in the middle. The slit it had was the size of the blocks, and the blocks were in a line on a ninety degree angle of a trench. The blocks could go into the disk, which could be spun in such a way as to bring the cubes to a different angle, and thus turn the blocks. The trench also extended one block-space farther than the disk could turn, so one block could be held and then turned, to fix the order. Dr. Harris followed this until the cubes were aligned in the way they were on the coal-drawn paper, and the hatch opened. Spain nearly jumped in, but found that it was only about a foot deep, with another of the snake figurines. He stamped his foot.

"GOD DAMMIT. WHERE IS ISABEL?"

Harris put his hand on Spain's shoulder. "Shhh. We'll find her. We've got to be close to it now. But we won't find her if we don't stay calm." Spain breathed heavily.

"Si… you're right. Let's go find her."

On their way out, the doctor lifted a small hammer on his shoulder. "Just in case."

Spain nodded, and then looked over at the burned house. "Did you really cut that fence with a scalpel?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"It's a sharp scalpel."

"Obviously…" Spain's mind drifted back to the truck in the square with the police station. Maybe they could find something under it. He went over to the burned house, and heaved up a tire jack. He looked over at Dr. Harris. "Follow me. I have an idea."

He carried it to the truck, and put it under the bottom of the truck, lifting it up. Sure enough, there was another snake figure, lying on the ground. He turned, after putting it in his bag, to see Dr. Harris smashing a piece of wall. Under the piece of wall on the building directly across from the police station was a small code input, every button a strange symbol. Dr. Harris looked back at Spain, and rubbed his nose. "Do you remember the newspaper machine that you tried to smash? Go drop these coins in." He gave three small coins to Spain. "I want to know what happened just before the town shut down." Spain did so, and returned with a disturbing newspaper article.

"_MURDER!_

"_The church watchman found a man dead this morning, from multiple gunshot wounds fired from a pistol…"_

The article went on to explain some more disappearances. Spain looked up at Dr. Harris, who was standing awkwardly with his pistol in hand. Spain stepped back slightly. "What's the pistol out for?"

"I wonder if this was the pistol the murderer used…"

Spain relaxed again. "Who knows? But I don't know what to do next."

Dr. Harris looked up at him. "Let's go back to the ship. See if we can't find some things we can use there."

Spain nodded, and followed Harris back.

When they climbed into the ship, Spain stopped in the artist's room. "Rebecca's electronic diary said that there was a painting in this room that had a safe behind it."

Dr. Harris looked over at the painting on the wall. "Let's see what's in it then, shall we?" He approached the picture, took out his scalpel, and tore open the picture, revealing a safe. He twisted the knob a few times, listening very carefully, and soon, the safe opened. It held yet another statuette, and a container of oil. Spain grabbed the oil, but Harris took the figurine. He looked at Spain. "This way, if we get separated, we don't lose all the figures."

Spain nodded, and they went into the hallway, and down into cabin 28. Dr. Harris took out three keys, and reached up to three small slits on the wall. He unlocked the slits, and another two figures dropped out. He looked at Spain. "I figured that if I got lost, these would be safe. Now I'm deciding that since we'll be leaving soon, we'll probably need them to get away."

Spain nodded his agreement, and then the Doctor went back to the artist's room, where Spain followed. Harris looked at Spain. "Show me that door. It's time to go save Isabel." Spain nodded, and climbed down the grappling hook, leading Harris to the spot on the beach, after having Harris widen the gap in the fence a bit with his incredibly sharp scalpel. He showed him down the hole, and used his flashlight to show the door and the slots. Spain extracted his figures, and Dr. Harris pulled out all the ones he had accumulated, and they laid them out. Along with the ones Spain had found, added to the number of Harris's Spain hadn't seen previously, they had fourteen new figures. Spain shone the light on the door while Harris placed each figure into their slots, one by one. The fire exploded out of the snake's eyes each time, and finally erupted in a blast of fire when it hit the last one. The door swung open as a double door, and Spain and Harris looked at each other before nodding, and Harris drawing his pistol, and Spain staying beside him with the flashlight.

In an incredibly anti-climactic discovery, they found another hatch, this one weighted. Harris tried to lift it, then Spain, then together. It was much too heavy. Spain kicked it. "Damn."

Dr. Harris thought for a moment. "Let's go look for a rope and a heavy weight. I have an idea that might work."

Spain thought as well. "In my boat! Right outside the cave. I'll be back in a couple minutes." Spain ran back to the beach, grabbed a rope and the heaviest object on his boat, which happened to be an old metal block he found underwater, easily fifty or sixty pounds, and carefully returned to Dr. Harris. Harris took the rope, tied it to the handle on the hatch, then wrapped it at the middle on a root that was protruding from the roof of the passage, and then tied the other end to the large block. The makeshift pulley worked—the hatch lifted, and Spain and Harris were able to fit through.

They slid into an underwater chamber, with an old mechanism and a gate. They swam over to the mechanism, which had a switch and a bunch of gears that had nothing to start them. Harris and Spain went back to the top of the chamber to take a breath. "Didn't you take a belt off of a tractor?" Spain asked, breathing heavily, keeping himself afloat.

"Yes, I did."

"Can we put it on the gears?"

"Good idea."

They plunged back under the water, and Harris produced the belt from his long coat, and put it on the largest, ready gears that had a flat exterior for a belt that had probably long rotted away. Spain pulled the lever, and the gate began to recede downwards. And with it, the water. When the room was simply covered in puddles, Spain sighed a happy sigh. "I didn't think we were going to make it through that water…"

Dr. Harris shook his head. "It's not over yet. Come on, let's go."

They walked forward, across the gate, and Spain looked down at one of the puddles in the hallway ahead. There, with a little streak of blood, was Mexico's bracelet.

* * *

><p>Alrighty! Just two shorter chapters left. Gosh, that was hard work. I had better get reviews from this sucker, because that was the longest chapter I have EVER written. I need sugar... or caffeine... I'm undergoing writer's fatigue... reviews would also be nice... and I hope you like the climax which is coming up. ;) How do we like our horrormystery stories? Well, I like them a lot. So have a nice and mysterious day/evening/morning/night.


	6. Where Nightmares Reside

*Find this chapter's music on my profile*

The Figure in the Mist: Where Nightmares Reside

Spain and Dr. Harris took off down the hallway, following the small trail of blood. The hallway was long and winding, but when they followed the trail they were able to find a straight path. Dr. Harris looked at Spain, still running. "They must have put the water up specifically for us."

"What do you mean?"

"This trail of blood is dry. The water had to be filled into the hallway after the blood had dried, or the trail would have gone away."

Spain thought about it for a moment, as they ascended a set of stairs. They soon came to a dark chamber, illuminated only by torchlight. Another, larger statue of a snake was in the back of the chamber, surrounded by smaller ones. There was a table shortly in front of Harris as he walked in, which he looked down at and beckoned Spain over. "Look at these symbols on this knife." He pointed to one of the blood-covered knives on the red-stained table. "They're the same symbols as on the wall in the square. I wonder if they're the combination."

"I don't care right now. Let's just find Isabel and get out of here."

Dr. Harris nodded, and the two of them began to walk around the room, searching for somewhere Isabel could be. Spain passed by one of the snake statues whose head had been removed. He looked at it oddly for a moment, then began to walk around some more. Dr. Harris shouted from one end of the chamber. "Over here!"

Spain jogged over, avoiding knives and spikes and the teeth of the snakes. Dr. Harris pointed down into a little pit that had a gate over the top of it. "There she is."

Mexico was lying on her back, sprawled like someone had recklessly dropped her, lying in a pool of presumably her own blood. The gate had a slot for a very odd-shaped key, and Spain kicked it. "Damn all these gates and keys! We need a way in." He looked around, and saw that on one of the tables was a large stone snake head that matched the one that was missing a head. He walked over to it, lifted the head and examined it in his hands, and then carried it over to the snake body, and placed it on. There was a rumbling, and the huge snake statue in the back of the chamber's mouth opened, and a jet of fire blasted out. The gate opened, but the pit was too deep. Dr. Harris looked up at Spain.

"I know you don't want to leave, but we need to find this key. Go back to the town, and open up that combination. Just press the symbols in the order on the knife. Take it with you."

Spain frowned deeply, but grabbed the knife, running helter-skelter out of the chamber, down the hallway, and back out of the cave, going full-tilt for the town. He ran across the beach, down the cobblestone path to the town, through the town center, down the street there, and finally came to a screeching halt at the building. He pressed the buttons in the order portrayed on the knife, and part of the wall dropped out. He reached into this section of the wall, and found a paper wrapped around a shovel.

"_Unmarked Grave"_ was the only thing the paper said. Spain's mind whirred to where he might find an unmarked grave. _The church!_ He ran back to the town center, then between the cut halves of the barbed wire fence that had been so skillfully cut by Dr. Harris, and soon came to the church. He went behind it into its graveyard, and looked around. Sure enough, there was an unmarked grave at the far corner of the yard. He ran over to it, diving the shovel into the ground, and digging until he heard a clink. He tossed the shovel aside, and began to sift through the dirt, and found a strange round object that looked like the key slot in the chamber. He dropped it in his bag, and went full-tilt for the cave. He didn't stop once, not even to climb the stepladder. He just careened through the entire area, jumping over anything that was in his way, and finally came back through the halls and into the chamber. He ran over to Harris, who stood, holding his gun, over a few of the islanders.

"They know we're in here! Quick, put the key in so we can get out!" Dr. Harris spun as another islander opened a stone door in the wall, and fired a precise shot into the man's forehead. The islander dropped, and Harris reloaded his pistol. Spain ran over to the key slot, digging through his bag frantically, and finally coming to the key, which he shoved into the slot. The bottom of the pit rose up, and Isabel was in reach. Spain grabbed her up in his arms, and looked at Harris. But as the floor of the pit rose, so did the stone doors in the sides of the chamber. Harris put a hand on Spain's shoulder.

"Wait for me at the ship. I think I have a way for us to get out. But first, someone has to stop these islanders." The cloaked men came pouring out of the wall, and Dr. Harris began to fire off shots. Spain grabbed his arm.

"No, you're coming with us. If you die, we can't get off this island."

Dr. Harris looked at him for a moment, and began to back out of the room, never missing a shot as Spain led him. Once they were out of the chamber, they ran at their fastest through the hallways of the cavern, until they came to the pulley. Harris took out his scalpel and cut the rope, and the weight dropped onto the hatch, adding extra weight. The islanders were trapped for the time being. Spain carried Isabel out of the cave, and ran with Harris back to the ship, laying Isabel down against a tree. They were almost off this island.

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><p>Alrighty, one chapter left! What do YOU think will happen? Will they escape in time? Is Dr. Harris really who he says he is? Will Mexico survive? FIND OUT in the final chapter of The Figure in the Mist! ;P<p> 


	7. British Ingenuity

The Figure in the Mist: British Ingenuity

Spain turned to Dr. Harris, and looked up at the ship. "So what's your plan?"

"We need to get into the ship. Grab Isabel. I'll show you when we get in there."

Harris climbed the grappling hook first, and then dropped something of a ladder down, allowing Spain to climb up while carrying Mexico. The Spain followed the doctor until they came to a little door at the end of the hall, which Harris opened with a small key. As they walked down the stairs behind the small door, Harris spoke softly, "Being the medical examiner had its benefits."

They came down into a room with an air pump, a plug in, and a glass room adjacent. Harris pointed to a little metal and glass cube in the middle of the room. "In a few minutes with the right parts, I can make that into a submarine that will fit all three of us. We just need to find the right parts."

Dr. Harris plugged the air pump into a little outlet, and frowned. "We need to turn on the power. Go into the next room over." He pointed to a little room off to the side, and then began to fiddle with a few electronics in his corner. Spain nodded, and set Mexico down against the wall, stepping into the room and looking around. The power grid was stabbed with an iron bar, and all the fuses inside were smashed. Spain retracted the iron bar, and unscrewed the glass front to the grid, tossing it aside and returning his screwdriver to his bag. He removed all of the old fuses, and looked around the room for spares. He saw none immediately, so he opened the drawers of the desk. He found five fuses that matched the colors on the grid, and placed each with its corresponding color. The rest of the power table whirred to life with an illuminating flash. A set of red words came across the touch screen. _'INSERT ACCESS CARD.' _Spain frowned once more, and turned, going back to Dr. Harris.

"Geoffrey?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you have an access card?"

"Why yes. Do you need one for the power table?"

"Si."

Dr. Harris put down the little piece of a motor he was holding, and reached into his coat, pulling out a golden access card, and handed it to Spain. Spain received it and thanked him, then returned to the table. He slid the card into the slot on top of the table, and a new screen appeared on the touch screen. It was a menu of options, and Spain scrolled through them until he came to one labeled 'power'. He pressed that, and it brought him a new screen. This one read, "Emergency power: off". So Spain pressed the word 'off', and it turned to 'on'. The lights suddenly came on with a small buzz, and Spain turned with a grin to Harris. Harris grinned back, and finished attaching the second rudder to the little box. He patted the box. "This thing won't last forever, but it should be enough to get us to the Spanish mainland. Go into that glass room and open the valve door. We can toss it out there and then climb in."

Spain walked over to the glass door, and looked at the combination key. Four keys were worn down a bit more than the others. 1, 4, 6, and 8. He made a face, and then decided to go about it systematically. He punched the 1, then 4, then 6, then 8. The light flashed red and the numbers went away, leaving him blank to start over. He tried 1, 6, 4, then 8. No cigar once again. So he finally tried 1, 6, 8, and finally 4. The glass door slid open silently, and he walked in, cranking the valve with his hands, and looking back at Dr. Harris. Dr. Harris had a hose attached to the oxygen pump in his hands, and was connecting it to a tank on the metal box. "This will keep us with enough oxygen to last us fifteen hours. It shouldn't take even that long to get to the mainland."

Spain nodded, and looked back at Isabel. "Do you suppose she'll be okay?"

While he was filling the tank with oxygen, Harris looked up at Spain. "I gave her a quick check while you were in the power room. Aside from a couple scratches and bruises, she'll be fine."

Spain smiled, and waited while the oxygen pump whirred for a while. Harris then hit the power button, and pulled off the hose, smiling to himself as he heaved the heavy makeshift submarine. Spain grabbed Mexico and followed Harris to the hatch. Harris dropped the sub down into the water, and opened the top of it. He climbed in first, and Spain carried Mexico in just afterwards. He sat Mexico beside him, and Harris grabbed the steering mechanism that he had built himself. Spain closed the hatch on top of the sub, and let Harris take it away; the propeller on the back sent them whirring through the water. Harris occasionally consulted his compass, nodding knowingly and sometimes redirecting the sub. After ten or twenty minutes, Mexico began to wake up. Spain looked down at her, and put his arm around her. She looked up at him, and then buried her face in his chest. "Papa…"

"I'm here, Isabel. It's okay."

"I'm sorry, papa…"

"Por que?"

"On the boat… I tried to knock you off. I hit you with the gas can."

"What?"

"I… was mad at you… I had been keeping in all my anger since I was little, and I guess it just boiled over… but I regretted it the moment I did it. And I'm glad you're okay."

Spain laughed. "I think I should be saying that now. You know what you just went through?"

"Sort of… but I know it was bad. I didn't really see much."

"That's probably a good thing."

Doctor Harris laughed. "It is a good thing."

Mexico looked up at him. "Who are you?"

"Dr. Geoffrey Harris. Call me Geoffrey."

"It's nice to meet you…"

"There are probably no happier circumstances that we could have met."

Spain grinned, and pulled out Harris's engagement ring, handing it back. "Yes there are. And you need to create one of them."

Harris laughed again, and continued sending the little box towards the mainland. "Then let's get home."

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><p>Haha! A happy little ending. You guys are lucky- I was considering having Mexico succeed in killing him in the sub. If you want an alternate ending, input this:<p>

As Mexico gradually began to open her eyes, she registered the man beside her. She remembered hitting him with the gas can on the boat, and knocking him off of it. The only thing she could think about was finishing what she started. She saw the second man, who had a pistol within reach on his hip. She reached out quickly, and grabbed it. Two gunshots, unheard from the world, deep beneath the sea, changed the course of the ship towards Central America.

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><p>Okay, that's that. I personally like the happy ending better. Anyway, please review the finished work~. And have a mysteriously, horrifically good day.<p> 


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